Page 11 of A Love That Broke Us
I’ll keep that in mind. Now send me your address so these stale bagels don’t get any more stale.
I shoot her my address along with instructions on how to get to my floor. Then, I call down to the concierge desk to let them know she’s coming. Jumping up, I take a quick scan of my apartment. I’m not messy by nature, but there are a few dishes in the sink I didn’t get to last night. I hurry to load them into the dishwasher.
I’m in loungewear, but I don’t think Alley will care. At least, I hope she won’t.
Ten minutes later, there’s a knock at the door.
I open it to find Alley standing there, looking beautiful, arms full. Her eyes scan me, landing on my head. Her lips curve into a grin.
“Wow. You must be a wild sleeper. That’s some impressive bedhead you’ve got going on.”
I chuckle, grabbing the coffees and waving her in. “Sorry, this is about as sexy as I get before coffee,” I tease.
She laughs, walking past me to the counter where she drops her purse and the bagels. Shrugging off her jacket, she drapes it over the barstool, and my pulse kicks up a notch. She lookshot—tight, low-cut top, heels, flawless makeup. My eyes drop to her chest. I can’t help it. Something about her look right now has me floored. Maybe it’s the heels. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s only nine in the morning.
Did she just come from another guy’s place?
“Whoa.” I wave a hand up and down in front of her. “I didn’t know this was a dress-to-impress breakfast. What’s with the outfit?”
Her grin widens, mischievous and teasing. “What are you talking about? This is just how I look when I wake up.” She shrugs dramatically. “Jealous?”
“More like jealous I’m not the one waking up next to you,” I say before I can stop myself. My brows lift. “Did you just come from another guy’s place? Who’s the lucky guy?”
She narrows her eyes. “What? No. I came from my friend Scarlett’s. We went out last night and had a couple drinks. I don’t like going home alone late, especially after I’ve been drinking. I always crash at her place when we go out.”
It all clicks.
“Oh, okay. I’m a douche.” I grip the back of my neck, sheepish. “All this time, whenever you said you were leaving a friend’s in the morning, I assumed it was because you were… uh… seeing someone else.” The words tumble out in a rush. “Not that it wouldn’t be okay! We’re not exclusive, obviously. And we haven’t even slept together, so of course you can sleep with other people. I’m not like… weird and possessive like that.”
Her lips press together, her eyes sparkling with amusement. I stop myself before I dig the hole any deeper.
She stares at me, clearly entertained. She starts to say something, then smacks her lips shut like she’s reconsidering. Finally, she grins. “Is your grave deep enough yet? Or do you want to keep talking so you can make sure you’re buried under every awkward thing you’ve ever said?” She grimaces dramatically. “Because that was pretty embarrassing. I might have to crawl in with you just to stop cringing.” She bursts out laughing, and I can’t help but join her.
“Okay, okay,” I say, chuckling. “I admit, that was not my best moment.”
She steps closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Didn’t peg you for the jealous type, Jensen.” Her gaze softens as it drifts over my face.
“I’m not. I swear it.” I mean it, too. I’ve never been the jealous type. I’m confident. Hell, I don’t know what thatwas, but it’s not a feeling I can ignore. I like her so damn much that, for a minute, I really was envious. Envious of whoever might be getting more of her than I am.
Before I can even explain, her mouth is on mine, hot and deliberate, like she’s trying to prove there’s nothing for me to worry about. My hands slide around her waist, pulling her closer, and my thoughts blur as her lips move against mine. Her kiss is all-consuming, a mix of sweetness and urgency that makes my chest tighten.
I haven’t had sex in over three months, between the surgery and now dating Alley for the past four weeks. I’ve wanted to with her, but I’ve held back—waiting for the right moment, wondering where she stands.
She’s not like the women I usually date, the ones who show up in skimpy dresses with flawless bodies sculpted by Pilates and protein shakes. She’s thinner, sure, but she has a softness to her, a realness. Her curves aren’t exaggerated, but she’s got enough for me to hold onto, and I like that. I like that she feels human, not like some unachievable ideal. And I like that she doesn’t expect that same ideal from me, that she’s kissing me with bedhead, even after I made an idiotic comment.
That’s what makes her so great. Everything with Alley feels real. Her laugh, her smile, the way she blushes when she catches me staring too long.
Usually, by this point, I’ve slept with someone I’m dating, maybe even a few times. But with Alley, it’s been slow. Innocent kisses. Public makeouts. And now this. This is so much better than sex on the first or second date.
It’s messing with my head in the best way.
My hand snakes to the front, brushing her stomach, inching higher. She’s soft in all the right places, and my palm sweeps across her breast. She gasps, her body arching into me. That sound.That sound alone could undo me.
Her response ignites a deeper desire in me, and I walk her backward to the couch. We fall onto it, her body sliding beneath mine. Propping myself on my elbows, I sink between her legs. Her hands immediately begin to explore me, gliding up my chest, brushing overmy shoulders and down my biceps. The press of her body against mine, the way her hips tilt up to meet me, her breath warm on my neck—it’s exhilarating.
My pulse hammers in my chest as her hands drift lower, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. She’s made me work for this, made me wait—and somehow, that’s made it all the more intense.
Her hand brushes over my hard-on, and I’m ready to lose myself completely in her when my phone rings. At first, I ignore it. There’s no way I’m stopping now. But then I remember—I’m supposed to be working.
